


Three Halves

by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa- (strangeandintoxicating)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, And yet this is a love story, Angst, BUCKETS OF ANGST, Incredibly Questionable Content, Jealousy, Lots of Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Twincest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24021319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandintoxicating/pseuds/Strange%20and%20Intoxicating%20-rsa-
Summary: Takashi and Kuron Shirogane came into the world with their umbilical cords wrapped around each others’ necks. Hands clasped tight as if in prayer, they were ripped out of the only home they had ever known as their mother bled out on her birthing bed.Can a person fall in love when they're only one half of a soul?
Relationships: Keith/Kuron/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Kuron/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a very specific request from @ILLocust! It's going to be split into 3 chapters!

Takashi and Kuron Shirogane came into the world with their umbilical cords wrapped around each others’ necks. Hands clasped tight as if in prayer, they were ripped out of the only home they had ever known as their mother bled out on her birthing bed.

The doctors had considered it both a miracle and great misfortune—Takashi and Kuron grew within the same amniotic sac in their mother’s womb, becoming so tangled that the cord wrapped itself around their throats. When one moved, the other choked. When one went into distress, the other fought and fought until he yanked so hard he ripped the placenta from the wall of their mother’s uterus.

She never had a chance—the damage was too much, her heart was too weak, her body was too far gone. Miyumi Shirogane bled out just as her sons took their first wailing gasps, eyes fluttering closed for the last time.

She’d never gotten to see them, never gotten to hold them. 

And so, Shiro held Kuro and Kuro held Shiro— as they had done in the womb, as they would do for the rest of their lives. 

When their father asked which of his sons had killed his wife, the doctor only shook his head. That wasn’t for him to know. That wasn't for anyone to know.

Their father had done his best after his wife’s death, but the pain had driven him to the bottle, and the bottle had driven him head-first into n-stage liver disease by the time he was thirty-five. He hadn’t lived much longer after that, dead and gone just two days after Takashi and Kuron’s fifth birthday.

Their grandfather told them that Shirogane men loved with their entire soul, their very _being_ , and the loss was like losing themselves. 

“You can’t blame your father, Kuro. He loved you—” 

“But he loved _her_ more,” Shiro replied, holding one of Kuro’s hands as they picked through his father’s bones, placing them inside the soft gray cremation urn. His hand was tired, his nose itching, but he didn’t let go of Kuro. 

He could never let go of Kuro.

There wasn’t anything to be done—love always meant death. Love meant tragedy. Love meant being _alone_.

That night, Kuro slipped into Shiro’s bottom bunk, wrapping his arms around his twin. The world may have been broken and twisted, their parents may have been dead, but they had each other. 

Night and day.

Black and white.

Yin and yang.

Two sides of the same coin. 

“Never fall in love,” Kuro begged Shiro, his tears dripping down his face and into Shiro’s pillow. He was so cold, so _alone_ , and all Shiro could do was wrap his arms around his brother and hold him so close he felt like they could merge into one being.

At least then… 

At least then they never would be alone again.

“Never leave me, Shiro.” 

“I’ll never leave you,” Shiro promised, and Shiro knew that Kuro believed him. Lacing their fingers together, Shiro kissed the top of his twin’s hand. “I’ll never fall in love. I promise.” 

It was such an easy promise for two boys to make—who would want to fall in love when all it caused was pain and death? Shiro didn't want to live in a world without Kuro, and he knew Kuro felt the same. It was easier this way.

And so it was— day after day, month after month, year after year, Shiro and Kuro grew and learned, but that promise… 

Neither of them forgot the frailty of two little boys, clinging to one another in the darkness. They didn’t need anyone when they had each other. They didn’t need anyone at all. 

Time passed in a sea of greens and yellows and reds, and though Shiro and Kuro grew, they never grew apart. Their bond was too strong to be broken, too strong to be frayed. Others tried—boys and girls with wide eyes and joyous smiles. They always tried to get close, tried to understand the elusive Shirogane twins, tried to tell which was which, but no one ever got them right.

Sometimes Shiro didn't know where Kuro ended and where he began, if a boundary like that could even exist between them. Shiro didn't even know if he _wasn't_ Kuro. 

Their grandfather couldn't tell, either. He did his best, tried his best to set boundaries between them during the day, at night… 

It was always easier to hide under the blankets, bodies slick and hands wandering, mouths crushed against one another to mask their sighs and groans. They were their firsts in every way possible, a promise that no one else could really understand. They had made a promise to one another, a promise that was as easy as breathing, but…

They always had each other. They didn’t need to fall in love, not when they already _had_ their love.

Shiro knew it was wrong, and he was sure that Kuro understood, too. People didn’t do this: they didn’t fall in love with their twin, didn’t find the warmth of their mouth or their hands or their bodies to be the only salvation in such a cold, callous world. 

But loving Kuro was like breathing— they were brought into the world wrapped around one another, hands clenched together and umbilical cords wrapped around their necks.

Without the other, would they live? Or would they die? 

It was their normal, their beautiful and twisted normal, and no one ever dared to breathe a word against them. They were twins who had lost their parents; their closeness was a bond that couldn’t be broken, couldn’t be swayed. Who wouldn’t want someone to be there with them through the brightest of dreams and the darkest of nightmares? 

No one ever thought to look just under the surface, to the bites against Shiro’s throat or the nails grated against Kuro’s back. They were just...

Brothers. 

Twins.

Two halves of the same soul— soulmates in the most literal of terms. 

No one dared to whisper _lovers_ , though they would have been right in every way. 

To their friends, to their grandfather, to the outside world, Shiro and Kuro were two boys who grew to be men, to men who were as close as any brothers could be. They competed in sports, they hung out with their friends, they went off to university and bunked together on campus, because why wouldn’t they? Even after graduating, they’d opted to rent an apartment together with two bedrooms, a show for anyone who bothered to stop by. 

How were they to know that in the darkness of night, Shiro would sneak into Kuro’s bed to open himself wide to let Kuro pushed inside? How were they to know that Kuro’s hand pumped his cock, pulling the most delicious and _terrible_ noises from Shiro’s throat? How were they to know that every time Shiro came, it was with Kuro’s name on his lips? 

How were they to know that Shiro was Kuro, and Kuro was Shiro, and there was nothing that could ever get between them?

That was until…

Until _Keith_. 

Keith came into their lives like a tornado, and Shiro had been both terrified and absolutely enamored the moment their eyes met. 

Shiro could remember that day with such clarity it was almost terrifying— the bright, clear May air, the groceries in Shiro’s hands, the beautiful man with violet-blue eyes, the stack of boxes he nearly dropped as he juggled as he tried to fish his keys out of his pocket. He was a new face that Shiro had never seen before in the apartment complex, and even now Shiro didn’t quite understand what pulled him into Keith’s orbit. It could have been his eyes, his furrowed brow, the smile that pulled at his lips the moment Shiro grabbed hold of the box on top, keeping them steady.

“Hey— you need a hand?” 

All it took was a single smile, a single word, and Shiro knew that he was lost. 

“Yeah.” 

That night, when he fucked into Kuro’s body, violet-blue flashed in his mind and Shiro cried, because what else could he do?

Kuro drank his tears with soft kisses, hands wrapped around his throat as he flipped Shiro over and rode him hard and fast. He fucked him into the mattress, and though Shiro cried out Kuro’s name, the eyes he wished he could look into weren’t his. 

When they’d come down from their impossible high, Shiro could see something in Kuro’s eyes, something dark and sad and so _pained_ it took Shiro’s breath away. 

“I told you not to fall in love, didn’t I?” was all Kuro said, all he _needed_ to say, because of course Kuro knew— they shared a soul, after all. 

The more time Shiro spent with Keith was less time that he spent with Kuro, and though he could see the jealousy in his twin’s eyes, the frustration and the anger, Shiro couldn’t help falling further and further in love with Keith.

He was smart, so damn smart, and snarky and funny. Shiro knew that if Kuro just spent some time with him, tried to get along, he would see Keith just like Shiro did. 

But Kuro didn’t try— he didn’t _want_ to try, and that tore a hole so deep in Shiro that he wasn’t sure it could ever be filled. He loved Keith, loved Keith so damn much. He’d never loved another person the way he loved Keith, but…

Day and night. 

White and black. 

Yang and yin. 

Kuro was Shiro, and Shiro was Kuro. 

No matter how much he loved Keith, no matter how it felt to sit beside him, how sweet his kisses were, how much his body craved for Keith’s touch… without Kuro, Shiro was nothing. 

He tried to push Keith away, tried to untangle his heart from the other man’s, but every time he tried he ended up back where it all began. 

Kuro… Kuro saw it, too. And, Shiro knew, if it hurt to pull away from Keith, it must have hurt Kuro so much more to see Keith pulling him back every single time. 

It was a tug of war, one that Shiro didn’t think he would survive without simply being yanked in half. 

How was it possible to fall in love with someone when he wasn’t whole? How could he even think it was possible when every night he climbed into Kuro’s bed? How could he do that to part of himself? 

No—it was easier to hide, easier to lie. 

During the day, when Shiro would slip on his mask, he could be the Prince Charming Keith always saw in him. They’d go on dates, hold hands as they walked through the park, and Shiro would sigh as he wrapped his arms around Keith’s middle as Keith drove them on his motorbike through the streets. They’d kiss right in front of Keith’s front door, but Shiro would never go inside. 

Keith probably thought it was because Shiro was a gentleman, but the truth… the truth was far more complicated. 

How... how could he ever explain Kuro? 

And did he even want to try?


	2. Chapter 2

Shiro should have known that there was something going on the moment Kuro opened the front door just as Shiro slipped the key in the lock.

He was smiling, a grin that took any worry right out of Shiro’s mind, though there was a darkness just around the edges. It was just the way Kuro acted, sometimes, especially when Shiro’s spent a chunk of his day with Keith. At first, he'd been sulky, terrified that Keith would steal him away, but that sulkiness had slowly begun to wear away. 

Shiro could deal with just a little darkness.

"Hey." 

"Hey, back." 

Shiro barely had time to close the door before he felt Kuro's hands on him.

“I need to take a shower,” Shiro said as he felt Kuro wrap his arms around his waist, nuzzling his nose against Shiro’s neck. He knew what Kuro would see—Keith had kissed across his lips and down to his throat. Shiro could remember Keith's mouth against Shiro’s neck in the same exact spot spot Kuro's lips now touched; he’d licked and bitten until he’d left his mark, a mark that Kuro sneered at when he saw it.

More than that, he knew what Kuro would taste as he licked the still-sensitive skin, making Shiro shudder. 

“He tastes sweet,” Kuro muttered before running his tongue against the junction of Shiro’s neck. “Innocent.” Then, with a nip, Kuro whispered, “I don’t like sweet and innocent, brother.”

There was nothing innocent or sweet about Kuro’s mouth, and though Shiro knew that he should pull away, he didn’t. He never did, never could. 

Never would.

Instead, Shiro leaned into Kuro’s touch, letting his twin’s hands pull him into their twisted embrace. Kuro was always like that, always able to touch Shiro in a way that only Kuro really could, the only way he knew how. Kuro understood everything about Shiro, every point of pressure and nerve in his body as well as he knew his own. 

But there was something else there, something that should have set Shiro’s hair up in warning, because Kuro _never_ wanted to smell Keith on him. It was a promise he’d made when he’d first started to see Keith, a promise to both Kuro and himself. 

He loved Kuro more than he loved himself, but he _knew_ his brother. He knew the jealousy that rolled somewhere deep inside him, yearning for everything that Shiro had to give, and then more. Kuro could be like a child in that manner, and Shiro knew nothing but indulging would work to soothe his aching heart. 

And so, Shiro gave. He gave and gave and gave until he was sure he couldn't give anything more, and then he'd try again. 

"You like this, right?" Kuro asked as he ran his thumbs against Shiro's hipbones. 

Shiro thought for a moment too long, and from the way Kuro nipped and suckled at his exposed skin, humming his appreciation before mumbling, “What’s wrong?” made it all the more clear. There was something in his voice, something Shiro knew as the darkest part of himself, the part he kept hidden from everyone, including his brother.

That part of himself, not even the brightest light could reach.

It was the same part of Kuro that made his guts twist up into knots. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Shiro replied, but both of them knew it was a lie. Something _was_ wrong, but… Shiro couldn’t put his finger on it, and decided it was better to let it die than bother Kuro. It wasn't a thing that Shiro wanted to spend too much of his time or energy on. It wouldn't matter, anyway. 

He was in his brother's arms, the safest place in the world. Nothing else mattered, not at that moment, anyway. 

"You're right."

"Huh?"

Kuro only blinked at him. "You do need a shower. You stink of your boyfriend." There was a teasing tone, there, but Shiro could see through it, just as he could see through everything his twin said and did. 

Possessive. Angry. Distrusting. But, more than anything, so loving that it made part of Shiro's very being ache. It was the kind of love that burned, that purified.

It wasn't right that Kuro felt this way, that they acted on their base urges. Just like it wasn't right for Shiro to _let_ him.

Kuro's eyes softened, just for a second. "Go take a shower, Shiro. I'll order us some pizza, yeah?"

Shiro wasn't one to deny himself some good pizza, giving his brother a quick peck before toeing off his shoes and slipping into the bathroom. 

Part of him wondered, idly, if Kuro would find himself into the shower with him. There was nothing nicer than having an extra set of hands scrubbing the parts that he couldn't reach, and more than that, after spending so much of the day apart from Kuro, it was nice to have that familiar warmth and comfort that he knew and loved so very much.

But Kuro didn't join him, and instead Shiro allowed himself to run his date with Keith over and over in his mind. 

He and Keith went out on their motorcycles into the mesa just outside of town, the sun on their backs and the sand in their eyes. Shiro could recall with perfect candor how Keith's laughter rang in the air, how it made his heart soar and his entire body ache with need as he watched Keith yank off his helmet, slinging his braid over his shoulder.

"Beat that, old timer," Keith had laughed, but instead of getting on his motorbike to prove Keith wrong, he'd grabbed him by the back of his leather jacket, forcing their lips together in a smoldering kiss that ripped the oxygen from Shiro's whole body.

It was a possessive kiss, yes, but not the possessive kisses that Shiro had grown so used to over the years. There was curiosity there, a keen yearning and desire that Shiro could feel bubbling through Keith and into him. Had Keith wanted this kiss as much as Shiro had?

From the way Keith melting in his hands, how he put _everything_ into the kiss, Shiro could have seen it even if he were a blind man. Keith wanted him just as much as Shiro wanted him. 

He couldn't deny Keith anything in the world, but…

He had pulled away, pressing their foreheads together. Keith's breath ghosted over his lips like a kiss.

"Why do you always do that?" Keith had asked, voice soft and oh so, so _sad_. "Why won't you let me touch you, _kiss_ you, like I want to?" 

"I just... I don't want to rush you." 

"You're _not_ rushing me," Keith replied with a frown, wrapping his arms around Shiro's neck. "It almost feels..." he trailed off, just for a moment, before continuing. "It almost feels like I'm rushing _you_. Have you... y'know, ever _been_ with someone?" 

_Yes. Every night, ever since I can remember._

Shiro only nodded his head, hoping that the truth didn't bleed across his face for Keith to see. 

"Is it... me?"

"No, never." Keith was so perfect, so beautiful... the thought of Keith thinking he did _anything_ wrong hit something in Shiro that made him remember that pain he'd felt all those years ago, with only Kuro to embrace him. "You're absolutely perfect, Keith." He took the man's face in his hands, running the pads of his thumbs against his cheeks. "Never, _ever_ , think otherwise." 

Still, Shiro couldn't give him the answer he wanted, that he damn well _deserved_ , but... 

Shiro stepped out of the shower, the steam billowing around him. He could hear Kuro in the living room, talking to someone—probably the pizza guy—before the sound of the door closed. 

He rubbed his hand across his mirror just enough to see Keith's handiwork stark against his throat. Where Keith had left his mark, so too had Kuro. He doubted that Keith would be able to tell the difference, but Shiro _could_.

There it was—guilt, rolling and bubbling in his guts. Bracing himself on the sink, Shiro stared at himself until the steam crept up across the glass, hiding him again from sight. 

_This is my own fault,_ Shiro thought sourly as he ran a hand through his hair. All those years of wanting nothing but Kuro, of hiding and lying and pretending, but now? 

_I did this to myself, and I'll just have to deal with the consequences._

_I have to... I have to think about this. I have to figure out what to do._

Tucking his towel round him, Shiro opened the door, peeking his head through. Kuro was leaning against the kitchen table, a folded slice of pizza hanging between his fingers. It'd looked like he'd already gotten through at least two slices of pizza. 

"Who was that?" 

"Hunk had to get me change from his car," Kuro explained as he lifted his pizza back up to take a bite. "S'ry." 

Shiro only rolled his eyes, but he still found himself crossing into the kitchen, snagging the pizza out of his brother's hand. "What's mine is yours," he said before taking a bite, trying to ignore the wicked smile that made Shiro's heart flutter in his chest, unbidden.

The arms snaking around him made Shiro sigh, and though he was absolutely starving, his cock was already getting hard. He didn't want it, except he _did_

"Looks like you want more than just some pizza," Kuro whispered as he leaned down, licking a droplet of water from Shiro's throat, just where the bruise laid stark against his skin. "It looks pretty on you." 

Shiro closed his eyes, letting himself fall into that sweet intoxication that only Kuro's hands could bring. Usually they were more careful, only touching under the covers of darkness in their bedroom with the door locked, but... There was something about the way Kuro held him, something that instinctually made Shiro feel _safe_. Even with his mind running wild, with the desire to be with Keith almost overwhelming, Shiro could never say no to his twin.

"C'mon, let's go to bed." 

Shiro dropped the pizza on top of the box as Kuro's hand entwined with his, and he was powerless to stop it. 

Weak. Shiro was weak, and always would be.

 _But that doesn't make me love him any_ _less_.

Kuro's hands were on him before Shiro even hit the bed, Kuro not bothering to close the bedroom door, leaving a perfect line of sight into the living room and the front door. 

“Wait,” Shiro said, but Kuro’s mouth was on his, engulfing all worries and qualms. 

“It’s just us,” Kuro crooned as he tore open Shiro's towel, immediately going for Shiro's aching cock. The wolfish smirk made Shiro feel as though he were a lamb, ready for the slaughter. Kuro would swallow him whole without so much as a pause. “It’s only us.” 

“But—” 

Kuro knew exactly how to make Shiro go quiet. He got down on his belly between Shiro’s open thighs and ran his tongue up from Shiro's balls to the tip, barely sucking before his tongue began lapping at the slit of his cock.

Shiro bucked up into that intoxicatingly warm mouth, but Kuro only pulled back with a pop that made Shiro's toes curl. His hand, that sinful hand, ran through the curls at the base of his dick, gently pulling in a way that made Shiro’s toes curl.

"Someone's needy, today," Kuro cooed as he reached over to his nightstand, blindly fumbling for the bottle of lube they kept there. "Did that precious little _Keith_ leave you high and dry again?" 

"N—not his—" 

"Fault," Kuro interrupted, snapping the cover of the lube off the bottle. "As you always tell me. Nothing could _ever_ be Keith's fault, could it?"

"Tha—ah, Kuro." 

Kuro smirked. "That's right—Kuro," he whispered as he leaned down, pressing his cheek against the inside of Shiro's thigh, nuzzling his nose against his skin. "Kuro. Not Keith—Kuro."

Shiro felt shame in his cheeks as he felt Kuro's lubed finger pressing against his hole, though whether it was his touch or his words, Shiro didn't know. 

Having spent his entire life with Kuro, it was of no surprise that Kuro would be jealous of Keith,. Nothing he could say or do would be able to change Shiro’s mind, even if he wanted nothing more than for his brother to understand his feelings for Keith.

Except...

“Think you’ll ever get that precious little toy of yours to do this, hm?” Kuro asked as he pressed one finger inside, curling his knuckle in that indescribably way that made Shiro’s eyes roll back in his head. There was nothing more alluring, more absolutely _infuriatingly_ , than the husky laugh against the sensitive skin of his thigh as Kuro pressed in a second finger. 

“He’ll never know you like I do. Never get to taste you like I do. You haven’t even fucked him.”

“Kuro—” 

“You know he’ll never be as good as me, don’t you? He’ll never love you as much as I do, and you’ll never love him as much as you love me.” 

And those words _hurt_ , because Shiro loved Kuro so much, but he wanted Keith in a way that made his heart ache. Even with Kuro’s fingers inside him, that hot breath on his skin, he was missing something… something that had never been missing before. 

Keith. Keith was that piece of him, the piece that he knew was empty and had never been able to fill. 

If Kuro had been willing to open his heart up to another, to just _meet_ Keith, then maybe, just maybe, what Kuro said wouldn’t be true. But Kuro was petulant, selfish, and that was partially on Shiro. They’d wrapped each other in love only they could understand, then challenged the world to try to come between them. 

It was a dare no one had been foolish enough to try… until Keith. 

Shiro didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt the tears on his lashes, and there was something in Kuro’s eyes, something that Shiro wasn’t sure he’d ever seen in his twin’s eyes.

Regret. 

But that regret, that flash of emotion that Shiro didn’t quite understand, was gone just as quickly as it came. Instead, Kuro pressed in another finger and Shiro found himself allowing that worry, that nagging and aching guilt, to hide somewhere else. He didn't want it, couldn't handle it—not when Kuro's hands were so warm on his skin. 

Kuro leaned in, close, and licked away Shiro’s tears.

"I love you." 

Shiro hummed as he closed his eyes, letting himself fall into the sensation of fingers in him and the sound of Kuro's zipper. Shiro shivered in anticipation as Kuro's fingers pumped inside him, prodding at that sweet spot that made Shiro's toes curl and his entire body seize and tighten. He wanted it, wanted every stroke and touch, and his body was more than ready for more.

Anything to keep his mind away from Keith. Anything to make the ache in his chest pause, even if just for a moment.

When Kuro withdrew his fingers, pressing his cock to Shiro's waiting hole, Shiro couldn't help but buck down almost teasingly to feel the head of Kuro's cock inside him. 

Cracking his eyes open, Shiro glanced at Kuro. His head was turned to the door for just a split second before he turned back around to Shiro. There was concentration on Kuro's face, a half-smile that hit Shiro in a way that felt _wrong_ , but Shiro didn't have the chance to say anything as Kuro pushed in.

Kuro leaned down, attacking his throat with bites and kisses, and Shiro could do nothing but turn his head to the side to give Kuro more access to his skin. He licked the spot Keith had left on his throat, sucking until Shiro let out a whine of pain.

“You’re mine. _Only_ mine.” 

_Keith..._ Shiro thought, and as though Kuro could read his mind, his twin fucked him _harder_. 

“ _Only_ mine.” 

Anything in Shiro's mind disappeared as Kuro's cock rubbed against that spot inside him, and though there was something _off_ , Shiro could only fall into the pleasure and the comfort that Kuro always brought with him. Shiro wrapped his legs around his twin’s hips, hooking his ankles to help pull Kuro in deeper with every thrust. 

His body, his mouth, his cock—Kuro was perfect, and the only thing Shiro could do was allow himself to _feel_.

It felt good to feel.

And then the front door opened and Keith managed one step in before his eyes went wide. The cheesecake— Shiro’s favorite— in his hands dropped like a stone, exploding across the floor and the walls. 

There was no time for Shiro to push Kuro off him, to get Kuro’s cock _out_ of him, to cover up their bodies, to… do _anything_. The door of his bedroom was wide open, Kuro was still inside him, and Keith was staring with slack-jawed horror. 

“Ke—” Shiro began, but at that very moment Kuro fucked against that sweet spot inside of him. Shiro couldn’t stop the moan, full of shame and pain and _loathing_ , from escaping his lips.

It _hurt_ to feel.

Shiro tried to push Kuro off, but he just _couldn’t_. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was because pushing Kuro away would have been pushing part of himself away, but his arms were jelly. It was as though all of the energy that Shiro had in his body was ripped right out of him, and Kuro’s response was only to laugh and fuck him harder.

Keith didn’t even close the door. 

Shiro didn’t blame him. After the years of hiding, the years of secrets and closed doors, it was time the world saw them as what they were—

Two halves of the same soul. 

Kuro came with Shiro’s name on his lips, but all Shiro could do was cry out Keith’s.


	3. Chapter 3

It was like walking through the fog, feet lost in a haze of swirling mist. Every step took him somewhere far away, somewhere _else_ , and yet Shiro didn’t know what that place was. It could have been heaven, most likely would be hell, but all Shiro could do was walk and walk until his feet grew tired and his body couldn’t move.

He’d tried calling Keith, over and over again until the pads of his thumbs ached, and then he tried again when the only thing that greeted him was a full voicemail box. 

“I told you no one would ever understand us,” Kuro had whispered as he folded his arms in front of him as he leaned on the doorframe. He had his hair slicked back like he had when they were younger, so much more carefree, and it was physically painful to see how calm and clear-eyed his twin was. 

There wasn’t any way Kuro could understand. He’d never loved someone like Shiro loved Keith.

Except…

Kuro had loved Shiro, in that twisted and broken way only one half of a soul could feel for the other, and Shiro knew that the thrum of pain in his chest was only exacerbated by that knowledge.

Part of this… part of this was Shiro’s fault. 

He’d known his entire life what he and Kuro were doing was wrong, that they shouldn’t, but he hadn’t done anything but half into his brother’s arms time and time again. It hadn’t mattered then when it was just them caught in one another’s embrace. Why did it matter so much now? 

Shiro didn’t need a word— just a face. 

He’d stopped by Keith’s apartment a week after, hoping it’d been enough time for Keith to calm down, for _both_ of them to calm down, but when he knocked on the door he’d gotten no response. 

He hadn’t expected Keith to answer. That or Keith slamming the door in his face. The latter would have been a better option, because then at least he would have known that Keith was still alive.

And Kuro...

Kuro had only stared at him in that knowing way, the way he had every time Shiro had been in pain or needed comfort. It was like Kuro could _feel_ it, which wasn’t something that brought Shiro any comfort in that moment. 

He didn’t want Kuro to suffer, didn’t want Keith to suffer, but… 

That was all that their love could bring, wasn’t it? 

If he were honest with himself, Shiro felt as though _he_ should suffer. It had been his heart that had strayed for Kuro, strayed from the only place he could call home. Falling in love with Keith had been so easy, as easy as breathing, but all it took was one breath to bring his entire world crumbling down. 

He’d expected Kuro to gloat when Shiro came home from the fifth attempt to knock on Keith’s door, another failed try at reconciliation. But instead of that impassive, knowing look, Kuro seemed…

Not contrite. There wasn’t a contrite bone in his twin’s body. He’d known every face that Kuro could make, had seen the same face mirrored back at him his entire life. 

This was a face of deep and consuming guilt, one that looked so wrong on Kuro’s face but felt so right on his own.

Yes, it had been Kuro to cause the rift between Shiro and Keith; he wasn’t stupid. Kuro had taken pleasure in what he’d done right up to the moment when he _didn’t_.

“You really _did_ love him, didn’t you?” 

Shiro stared at Kuro’s dark eyes, at his clenched fists and the tight smile that looked more like a mask shattering from the inside out. The betrayal in his voice ripped a part of Shiro open, and when he looked away, Kuro had his answer. 

“You loved him more than me.” 

That, at least, got an answer from Shiro. It was a painful answer, one that Shiro wished he could take back the moment the words came out, but he knew they were true. 

“I loved him _different_ than you.” 

And it was true. Loving Kuro was like loving himself, even when he hated himself. It was wild and painful and burned like an inferno. 

Loving Keith was easy and soft and sweet. There was none of the pain, not the way it was for Shiro to love Kuro. It didn’t make it better, didn’t make it worse. 

It simply _was_.

Shiro waited for the day the movers would come and take Keith’s belongings away, but he realized after two weeks of staring at Keith’s door that they’d never arrive. Keith was a broke college student; he wouldn’t be able to move out, especially considering he was in the middle of his classes. 

That made things almost worse in some respects. There was always the chance that he’d see Keith across the way, that their eyes would connect and the pain and hatred and disgust would rip Shiro open. There was also the chance that Keith could call the police and report them, though there wasn’t much the government could do— what he and Kuro were doing wasn’t illegal. 

Frowned upon? Taboo? Despicable in the eyes of their family and friends and community? Likely to get both Kuro and Shiro thrown out of their apartment? Destroy their careers?

Sure.

And Kuro had known that, too. He’d known what could happen if the world found out about them, and he’d purposely brought Keith into their home, into their bedroom with the full understanding of what havoc his actions could bring upon them.

Except… 

Shiro _knew_ Keith. He didn’t have a spiteful bone in his body. Even in pain and heartbreak, Keith wouldn’t say a word. 

Instead, he’d bury it deep down and hide it from the world, internalize it as some sort of failure on himself. Keith wouldn’t hate Shiro for it, no matter how much he’d deserve it.

Keith would hate himself.

When he told Kuro this, his twin looked away. It wasn't shame, because Shiro wasn't sure if Kuro understood what shame felt like. But there was something there that Shiro, for the first time in his life, didn't quite understand.

“Oh.” 

That was all Kuro had to say, because that one word held the world in its single syllable. 

Kuro didn’t apologize, didn’t say another word, but Shiro could see the gears turning behind his brother’s eyes. 

He didn’t want to know— 

No.

Shiro didn’t think he could handle knowing whatever was going on inside the maelstrom that was Kuro’s mind. 


	4. Chapter 4

There were a thousand things that Shiro expected from Kuro, but this? 

This wasn't one of them.

He'd spent his days wallowing away, suffering due to his own failures. He couldn't even look at himself in the mirror, the constant reminder of what Kuro had done (but truly what Shiro had _failed_ to do) making his palms sweat and his head ache. 

He missed Keith with every breath in his body, but more than that, he missed feeling as though there was a chance of being whole. The time spent with Keith had shown him a different world, one that he could have had without fear of reprisal, and yet... 

The knock at the door was what roused Shiro from his own mind. How long he'd been staring down at the paper, Shiro couldn't have known. The only hint to the passage of time was his now-cold coffee and the pinkish-blue sunset making its way through the blinds of his kitchen window. 

"I'll get it," Kuro said, and Shiro found himself slumping back into the chair, eyes tracing the dusk's light against the work in front of him. He noticed the weariness in his brother's voice, the tightness of his words, but Shiro didn't have the energy himself to comment.

He hadn't slept well since... since what had happened with Keith and Kuro, and though it was foolish, he could feel the weariness in his bones. There wasn't any way he could keep this up for much longer without facing severe consequences, but that was something he was used to—punishing himself. He'd been so good at doing it for so long that it may as well have been second nature at that point. 

_What was it that Kuro used to say?_ Shiro thought as he pulled off his glasses and tried unsuccessfully to rub the bleariness from his eyes. _No rest for the wicked?_

Shiro felt wicked, yes, but mostly he was just so damn **_tired_**.

Since what had happened that day, Shiro hadn't slept, sure, but he hadn't touched Kuro, either. It was the longest in Shiro's life that he'd gone without the creature comfort of Kuro's skin against his, and while he yearned for it he hadn't felt it was right. 

"Is it because I don't deserve to be touched?" 

"No." 

The truth wasn't that at all.

"The one who doesn't deserve it is me." 

Kuro had accepted the answer as begrudgingly as he could have, and since that day, Kuro hadn't so much as grazed his fingers against Shiro's. 

So, it did come as quite the shock when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, one that felt almost foreign. It wasn't Kuro's hand—it wasn't anything like his own. Who—

"Hey." 

It took Shiro everything in his body to not convulse or pull away, to act as though Keith's voice and his hand hadn't sent his entire being into shock right then and there. His warmth, his comforting presence... this wasn't for him anymore. He'd ruined everything, ruined Keith, ruined himself and Kuro and—

"Hey," Shiro croaked back, because what else could he say?

A thousand platitudes rose to his mind then, a thousand lies he'd told himself all through his childhood just in case he and Kuro were found in a compromising situation. They were lies that felt hollow in his mouth, lies that could be seen through like the tissue paper of Shiro's heart, and when he looked into Keith's eyes he knew that he couldn't lie to Keith. 

He just...

He _couldn't_.

"I—" 

"I know. I know everything." 

Shiro swallowed, throat dry. Keith's face was steeled, his hand still soft against his shoulder and yet.... those eyes, so blue they looked purple in the setting sun were filled with something Shiro had never expected to see in Keith's face. 

Understanding. 

It wasn't pity, but there was something there, something that made Shiro's heart nearly burst open.

"How?"

Keith's Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes drifted away from Shiro's face and for the first time in so long, Shiro caught his brother's gaze. "Your—your bro—Kuro. _He_ told me. Explained it to me." 

"Kuro... he did?" 

Keith nodded. There was still pain in his eyes and they way his Keith's mouth seemed to have as much difficulty with the words as Shiro did when he looked at Kuro.

They both still managed, if just barely.

"You did?" 

"Yeah, I guess so." 

Kuro... he wasn't looking at either Keith or himself, but when Shiro whispered his name, Kuro turned like he were a flower searching for the warmth of his setting sun. 

Guilt ate through Shiro then, because in his own misery and pain, he'd ignored the person in his life who made him whole. 

But... was it possible for there to be three halves to make up a whole? Shiro and Kuro were one person, one being, but could there be room for another, for someone to slot in as equally between them as they did themselves?

That was selfish and cruel, and both Kuro and Keith deserved better. They deserved so much better than anything Shiro had to offer. And yet his mind wandered to a place where things could have been good, could have been beautiful, could have been... something whole and real, something just for them.

"It would be better—I thought. You know, if I explained it. You get so emotional about everything, Shiro." Kuro's voice his the pain in those words, but Shiro knew his brother better than he knew himself. He could feel the pain like an ache in his heart. "Figured it'd be better coming from someone without a heart." 

"Don't say that," Shiro replied quickly, seeing the ghost of a rueful smirk cross his brother's mouth. 

It hurt to see Kuro hurt and though he knew that he shouldn't look away from Keith—sweet Keith, beautiful and kind Keith—he needed Kuro like he needed his own heart to beat in his chest. 

"Let's stop pretending like I'm the good brother. Unfortunately, it seems you were born with the good part of our soul." 

"That's not true—" 

Kuro's eyes went dark and hungry, and for a brief moment Shiro thought Kuro would grab him and kiss him again, just like he had that night two weeks before when he'd lured Keith to their apartment.

But then Kuro turned his cheek, staring off into the dim light dancing across the kitchen table. "You know it's—" 

"Stop it!" 

Keith's voice was like whiplash to Shiro's heart; there was pain there, sure, but it grounded him and brought him bak to his senses. Still, what was more shocking was what Keith did next. 

He'd imagined what Keith would ever do if he saw Shiro or Kuro again. The main thing that had run through his mind was the thought that Keith probably had a wicked right hook and he had always been brazen and reckless. A good punch to either Shiro or Kuro would have been more than expected, maybe even screaming and cursing and possibly even a knife to the leather of Kuro and Shiro's pretty black Mercedes, but a kiss wasn't anywhere on that list.

Watching Keith kiss Kuro was nothing like the way Keith kiss Shiro. With Shiro it had always been soft and sweet, inviting and enticing but always on the edge of that sweet, forbidden bliss. It was a dance, a waltz, and Keith led and yearned and breathed. All Shiro could do was hope he could follow in time. 

Keith kissing Kuro was like watching a violent, bloody battle. The clash of swords, the scream of metal against metal, the amalgamation of fear and desire tainted with anger and so much pain set Shiro's teeth on edge. There was still something almost _sweet_ in the way Kuro raised, entirely unsure and confused, eyes frantically looking from Keith to Shiro, then back to Keith. 

It couldn't have been more than a handful of seconds, barely even the length of time for a good kiss, but both Kuro and Keith looked dazed when Keith finally pulled away.

 _And so am I,_ Shiro admitted to himself as Kuro wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. It wasn't so much as an act of disgust rather than one of confusion, of nothing else. 

"If you didn't have a heart, you never would have come to me," Keith said after a long moment. "You never would have explained to me.... what I saw."

Did Keith understand exactly what he saw? If he did, it wasn't possible that he'd be so understanding, that he'd—that he'd kiss Kuro. 

It wasn't possible at all.

Kuro, as always, could read Shiro like an open book. "I told him the truth." There wasn't hostility or even the touch of a lie—if there had ben, Shiro would have known. 

Shiro always knew. Still...

"All of it?" Shiro nearly croaked, throat tight and hands shaking. He tried to hide his hand from sight, but Keith's warm skin against his was like a bolt of electricity through his entire being and he allowed himself to fall into the touch of Keith's skin against his.

"Yeah," Kuro whispered, voice low and deep. It was... it was everything Shiro wanted and _more_ , because Keith's hand hadn't let his go, and... "I told him all of it." 

"And... you don't... you don't hate me, Keith?" 

He was that child all alone in the big, scary world, reaching out for his other half through the blood and carnage. But now? Now Shiro could see the light like a beacon through the darkness and the pain. 

That was Keith. That had always been Keith. 

"I don't hate you," Keith told him, and though Shiro waited to hear other words through another tone, all he could hear was the Keith he remembered. It was the same Keith who had kissed him that day, who'd bitten against the tender flesh of Shiro's neck, licking and whispering his name like a sweet promise.

But—

"Keith—I love you. I do," Shiro began, hearing the other half of his heart shatter while Keith's glowed like dawn. "But... Kuro. I can't—I can't—" 

"I wasn't asking you to." 

This wasn't what he expected from Keith. It wasn't what he expected at all.

Shiro felt the confusion on his face and when he looked back at his twin, he could see the same blank shock stark on Kuro's face. Obviously whatever the two had talked about didn't mention this. They didn't seem to have mentioned this at all.

"Shiro," Keith began, licking his lips as he clung to Shiro's hand as though it were a lifeline and without it he would be lost in the endless dark. "I would never hurt you. And I'd never hurt him. I love you too much to make you choose." 

"Why not?" 

Keith chucked, voice low and sad and yet there was a glimmer of a smile barely there against his lips. His eyes were tear-rimmed, too pink and so beautiful that Shiro wanted to do nothing more than kiss away the tears forming at the corners of his eyelids. 

"Because he's you, and you're him," Keith said, and it was the most honest thing anyone had ever said about him and Kuro. "And how could I love you if you were only half whole?" 

Shiro's breath caught in his throat and he didn't have the energy to fight back the tears that cascaded down his cheeks. In that moment, everything was okay. Everything had to be okay, because Keith still loved him and Kuro was still there, and... and....

"I was right." 

Shiro and Keith both turned toward Kuro. He'd expected that dark look that crossed Kuro's face any time Shiro mentioned Keith to be there—the jealousy like a mask across his twin's face—but what he was was something he hadn't seen in his brother's face for a long, long time.

Shiro didn't need a word for it because he could feel it in his chest.

"He is as sweet as I said." 

"Yeah," Shiro replied as he finally closed the distance between him and Keith, pressing their foreheads together. "He is." 


End file.
